


If I Let You Go

by itsmorethanfine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternating Top and Bottom, Bad Writing, Bottom Dean, Doctor Castiel, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pregnant Jessica, Soldier Dean, Top Castiel, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3608067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmorethanfine/pseuds/itsmorethanfine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a doctor at a hospital, while his boyfriend Dean comes home from war. Things seem to be happy for once, or do they have secrets that they haven't told each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Let You Go

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Twist and Shout](https://archiveofourown.org/works/537876) by [gabriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriel/pseuds/gabriel), [standbyme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/standbyme/pseuds/standbyme). 



> Sam/Jess is only an established relationship! There isn't much happening with their story arc! So if you're looking for Sam/Jess, this isn't it <3

Dean checked his watch nervously as the cab he was taking drew closer and closer to his destination. He hadn’t seen the little town for three or so years now and he couldn’t have been more excited. The stores, the cars and the trees all whizzed by.

He would’ve been driving himself, but the only car he wanted to drive was his Impala, which was in the garage back at home.

“Right. Make a right here, buddy,” he said to the driver, who threw him a look in the rearview mirror.

“Yes, I know that. _Sir_.”

“Just making sure,” Dean said, cheerfully.

“But, hey, thank you for your service.”

“No problem, civilian.” Dean winked, as the driver rolled his eyes at him.

The car pulled in front of the building that had a sign that said “Lifeline Hospitals” in big, silver letters on top. He pulled out his wallet from his pocket, grabbed a few bills and thrust them into the driver’s hands.

“You seem awfully happy to be going to the hospital. You becoming a daddy?” The driver asked, as he pulled out Dean’s suitcases from the trunk.

Dean laughed. “No, but my boyfriend is probably delivering the baby.”

Without waiting for a reply from the speechless driver, he grabbed his bags and rushed up the stairs, past the people, past the fake plants, past the glass doors. He practically jumped the stairs 4 at a time, in a hurry to get to Cas’ office.

 _Cas_.

Just the thought of the piercing blue eyes, the crinkles that framed them, the stupid dimples, the messy hair, not to mention the scent of cleanliness and hospitals was enough to send Dean’s heart in a frenzy. But, at least Cas knew how to perform CPR if Dean ever passed out because of how fucking _gorgeous_ Cas was.

He barely noticed the girl at the front desk, as he hurriedly tried the door to Cas’ office.

“Sir? I’m afraid you can’t--” She started, but broke off when she saw who it was. “Dean?”

Dean grinned. “Jess!” He scooped her up into his arms in a huge hug, kissing her on the cheek. “You look great. Wow, it’s been a while.” He pulled away and that was when he noticed the unmistakable bump under her dress. “It’s been a _while_ ,” he repeated, his eyes widening.

Jess laughed out loud and rested her hands on her hips. “You aren’t supposed to be here for another week! It’s so good to see you, Dean,” she said, her eyes glistening with tears.

“You too, Jess,” he said, leaning over and kissing her on the forehead again. “And I know, I know. I took a flight home early. How’s Sammy? Hope he’s been treating you alright.”

“Well,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m carrying his baby, so I guess he’s been okay to me.”

Dean laughed. “That’s… so great. When did this all _happen_?”

“We decided it last August. We meant to write to you, but we weren’t sure whether you were receiving our letters out on the base, you know? I mean, you stopped writing to us after a while.”

Right. The letters. He’d been meaning to get back to them, but he just couldn’t bring himself to reply. Not when he was on duty practically 6 days a week. He’d been drafted into the army about 3 summers ago, which had been an emotional blow to all of his relationships. But, he had applied and if he quit, it would just make him feel even worse about his unsuccessful life.

The worst had been with Cas. Sharing a room with your best friend was completely different from sharing a room with a former best friend who had turned into a huge crush. One drunk night, he’d accidentally kissed Cas. He would’ve never done it without his trusty beer, but it had happened. And it had changed everything so drastically; nothing would ever be the same again.

The next morning, Dean knew that he needed to talk about it with Cas, but he was so sure that his best friend didn’t feel that way about him.

_“Dean? You know we need to talk about this, right?”_

_“I know.”_

_“I had no idea that you… wanted me. If you’d hinted earlier, we could’ve become so much more, Dean.”_

_“Well, you know now. What do you say, Cas?”_

When Cas spoke again, he was smiling. Smiling so wide, Dean was afraid his cheeks were going to fall off. And then Cas kissed him.

The last two weeks before Dean left had been the hardest. He’d known that Cas would wait for him. But, just the idea of being in a completely different continent than Cas was in, hurt. It hurt more than anything. What if this was the last time he would ever see Cas? What if he wouldn’t make it back alive? What if he would never have that happy ending with Cas?

Cas had moved over and kissed him, softly, letting the kiss linger. “Stop with the negativity. I can feel it radiating off of you. I’ll be here for you. Waiting for you. Always, like I have been all these years, okay?”

And just like that, Dean had left. Hadn’t seen him for 3 years. He’d stopped replying to the letters about a year or so into his mission.

He couldn’t explain why he didn’t just pick up the damn pen and write Cas a letter. All he knew was that he couldn’t.

Dean snapped out of his nostalgic daydream and smiled weakly at Jess. “Yeah, it got a little busy. I couldn’t write as often as I’d liked.”

 _Lies_.

Jess nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. But, we were worried, Dean. Anyway, you get any cool battle wounds that you can show little Mary here?” she asked, patting her stomach, a slight smile playing on her lips. “She’s due in about a week.”

“Mary?” Dean asked. “That’s sickeningly cute. I have a ton I could show her. It’s not an easy life, you know.”

Jess smacked him on the chest. “That attitude of yours, gosh. How did your officers not squeeze it out of you?”

Dean threw his head back and laughed. He threw his arms wide open and declared, “Because I’m forever.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Where’s Cas? Sam? Where is everybody?”

“Cas is in the middle of an operation right now. Sam is….,” she paused, looking at the clock. “Driving here from work to pick me up. Should be here in a few minutes.”

“In for a little surprise though, isn’t he?” Dean winked.

“Sure is.”

“Okay, you sit down. Don’t want to stress you out. But, tell me where Cas is so I can go see him.”

Before Jess could answer, a voice interrupted her from the doorway. “Dean?”

Sam stood there, his hair longer than ever, in a suit and tie, briefcase in his hand.

“ _Dean_!” he laughed, rushing over to give his big brother a bone-crushing hug. Dean laughed, clapping him on the shoulder and pulling away to look at him. “Jesus, Sammy. It’s you. How you been?”

“Dean,” he let out a relieved breath. “You absolute jerk,” he said, narrowing his eyes. And then, without warning, he punched him in the face.

Dean buckled under the force of the blow, staggering to keep standing. Jess was covering her mouth with her hand, horrified.

“Nice to see you, too,” Dean chuckled. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and whistled when he saw the streak of blood that came with it. “Damn. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Sam was still glaring at him, practically bursting with things he wanted to say to him.

Dean sighed. “Okay, let me hear it.”

“You go off to save the country, great. That’s all great. But, did you even bother to think about worried I would be? How worried Jess would be? How worried _Cas_ would be? You leave and then the letters come for a while and then they just stop. Just, _stop_! Half the times I would just sit there hoping that nothing wrong had happened. Hoping and praying that you were safe. Me, Dean! _Praying_!” Sam’s arms were spread, his brow creased with worry and anger, his messy hair looking even messier.

“Sammy, I--”

“No, don’t you dare ‘Sammy’ me. I’m not done. When Jess and I were trying to have a baby, the first people I thought of telling were you and Cas. But, guess what? I only told Cas. Because,” he said, jabbing Dean in the chest “you. Weren’t. There.”  

“Give me a break, Sam, alright? I’ve been sitting around, trying to find time to write you all letters! That’s all I could think about. You, Cas and Jess. You were the only three people that I cared about, okay? You were the only reason I pulled myself out of that stinking trench to get some help. In fact, look.” Dean pulled out the wallet he’d stuffed into this purse and flipped it open. Inside was a tattered picture of Sam, Jess and Cas laughing at the last party that they had been to together. “This picture was all the reference I had of you guys.”

Sam’s face softened. “Still doesn’t make it okay for you to not write,” he mumbled.

“I know.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Sam reached over and pulled Dean into another hug, wrapping his arms around him as tightly as he could. “I missed you, Dean.”

“Me, too, Sammy. Me too.”

After a hurried inquiry about Cas, Dean finally had the operating room number that Cas was working in. He rushed upstairs, using the stairs, even though the elevator would have been faster.

Cas was in the third operating room down the hall. The light outside the room was on, indicating that there were people working inside. Dean stepped up to the glass, beside an old lady, who was holding a handkerchief to her mouth, crying silently. He peered inside, and saw an old man, on the table, covered in blankets, doctors and nurses hurriedly moving around, trying to finish the operation quickly.

“That your husband?” Dean asked.

She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“He’s in good hands. He’s going to be alright, okay? Don’t you worry.”

 The lady smiled slightly through her tears. “I sure hope so.”

“He is,” Dean insisted. He looked into the room and spotted Cas, holding a scalpel in his hand, working on the man’s chest. His hair looked slightly messy underneath the cap, and he had a hospital mask on. And suddenly, Dean’s stomach flip-flopped. It reminded him of how he’d felt when he’d first fallen in love with those eyes.

“You see that guy over there? The one in the middle?” He gestured to Cas. “If he’s helping your husband, you ain’t got nothing to worry about.”

The lady smiled, a little wider this time. ‘Thank you.”

“How about you sit down? I’ll go get you something to eat. You look famished,” Dean said, his heart swelling with affection for the woman.

“No you don’t have to--”

“I know, but I want to.”

Dean helped her sit down and returned with a bagel and a cup of tea. Maybe it was soldier instincts or whatever, but he just couldn’t see anyone hurt. Even if he didn’t know them.

The operation went on for about another 30 minutes and then the light outside switched off. A doctor, a few years older than Dean, stepped out of the operating theatre. The lady beside Dean dropped her bagel and rushed up to him.

“Is he okay?”

The doctor nodded, smiling as he wiped his brow. “Your husband is stable. The operation went very well. You have nothing to worry about.” He patted her on the shoulder and walked away.

The lady let out an obvious sigh of relief and smiled at Dean. “He’s fine. He’s _fine_ ,” she said, shakily.

Dean laughed softly. “Yes, he is. I told you.”

“I think that’s your boyfriend stepping out of the operating room right now,” she said, winking. Dean spun around and saw Cas, pulling off the mask from his face, tossing it into the trash can right outside.

Cas didn’t look a day older. The only thing different was that he looked a little tired and he hadn’t shaved in a few days. His hair was more tousled that usual because of the cap. And the green hospital suit that Cas wore did things to Dean. Maybe he just had an unconscious doctor kink.

“Cas,” he breathed, as he walked up to him, running his fingers forcefully through his hair.

A wave of surprise flashed on Cas face, but was quickly replaced with relief. “Dean?”

“Hey,” he said weakly, tears threatening to form.

And before Dean could register anything, Cas was throwing himself at Dean, wrapping his arms around him as tightly as he could. Cas pulled him into a dreamy kiss, soft and urgent all rolled into one. Dean sighed against his mouth.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

Cas giggled, before kissing him again. “I absolutely hate you, you know that?”

Dean pulled away and stared. “What?”

“You never wrote, Dean. I was worried sick,” Cas said, his eyes wet with tears. And then, he slapped him. “So _worried_. I had no idea if you were alive or dead or injured or God knows what. And then you just show up here like nothing happened?”

“Cas, I was really busy. Can we not fight about this right now?,” Dean asked, tired of having the same conversation 3 times in the same day. His face stung slightly from where Cas had hit him.

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” he said, quietly, reaching over and drawing him into another kiss.

“I love you.”

“I love you more, Dean.”

He rubbed Dean’s face lightly, drawing light circles on his face with his thumb. “What happened?” he asked, touching Dean’s lip. It was probably swollen from where Sam had hit him.

“Aw, nothing. Sam got mad at me,” Dean said, brushing it off.

“Let’s go get this cleaned. Come,” Cas said, looping his arm through Dean’s and leading him to his office.

Ten minutes later, Cas was holding an ice pack to Dean’s cheek. His lip was cleaned and was a little less swollen. Cas ran his fingers through Dean’s hair and he hummed, closing his eyes.

“I’ve missed that.”

“Really? Didn’t find some other cute guy to do it for you?”

Dean opened one eye and shot him his best death glare. “I did.”

“Oh, really?” Cas asked, twirling the longer strands with his fingers. “What’s his name?”

“Castiel.”

Cas smiled, the blush creeping in his cheeks. “You flatter me too much, Dean.”

“Yeah, well. You deserve it, you know.” Dean’s eyes were both opened now, taking in the complexity of Cas’ gorgeous face.

“Stop it, Dean.” He rolled his eyes.

“You were always way too modest,” Dean winked.

Cas just simply smiled.

 _He’s gotten quiet_ Dean observed. And suddenly, things didn’t seem okay anymore. “Hey, Cas. You’ve been awfully quiet the entire time I’ve been back. Anything happen?”

Cas tensed, suddenly stopping the combing and shook his head slowly. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’ve been worried about you. In fact, I am still trying to process the fact that you are here. With me. In the flesh.” He smiled weakly and resumed combing through Dean’s hair.

Dean grabbed Cas’ hands and scooted his chair closer to his. “I’m here. I’m okay. I’ll always come back for you, Cas. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do, Dean.” But, Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more than what Cas had given away.

___________________________

Back home that night, Cas had decided to make dinner, as a way of welcoming Dean back home. He’d cheered up a little, but Dean could tell a fake smile from a real one. It was only mac and cheese, but Dean hadn’t had mac and cheese in so long, he didn’t even care.

Not to mention, he hadn’t seen his boyfriend in 3 years.

“This is great, Cas.” Dean shoved a huge forkful of macaroni into his mouth and grinned.

Cas laughed. “It’s just mac and cheese, Dean. I would have prepared something else for you. But, you returned earlier than I thought.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, of course not, Dean. I am really glad you are back.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Dean muttered, as he averted his eyes.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ve been so on edge since I got back, Cas. It’s like you don’t want me here,” Dean said, his voice cracking in frustration. What had he thought? That Cas would _wait_ for him? For three years? Why would he?

_Why would anyone?_

“And,” he continued, “Something’s bothering you, clearly. And you don’t want to talk about it with _me_. Did we really grow that far--”

“Dean, stop it.”

He fell silent, but stared back defiantly at Cas.

Cas took a deep breath. “I had this whole thing planned for you. A back-home surprise party and everything. But, that isn’t the point. Forget it.” He set down his fork, pushed back his chair and headed off to the kitchen.

Dean stood, following him. Cas was facing away from him, his head against the refrigerator. He reached over, grabbed Cas’ arm and spun him around. “Then, what _is_ the point?”

“Why didn’t you write?” His voice was shaking as he replied.

“Cas--”

“Is it because you got _bored_ with me? Or did you find someone else that would have treated you better?”

“Cas, stop, alright?” he said, his voice sharp. “I’ve never loved anyone but you. I thought you knew that. An-and in case you’ve forgotten, I was the one in love with you first.”

Cas didn’t say anything, so he spoke through the silence. “I thought about you every day, Cas. Every single day. And every time I helped bandage a guy or drag him off the field to fix him up, I thought of you. Sort of how you fix people. With your perfect hands and everything you do.” Dean took a deep breath, feeling the pit in his stomach grow heavier with Cas’ passing silence. “I did not leave you.”

“I know you didn’t. This is stupid. We shouldn’t be fighting. Not when you’re home,” Cas said, reaching for Dean’s cheek again. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. “And safe. You’re safe.”

“I fought for you, Cas.”

Tears escaped Cas’ eyes and a few fell down his cheeks. Dean immediately wiped them away. “Hey, no crying. I’m here, okay?”

Cas nodded. After a pause, he said, “You think my hands are perfect?”

Dean laughed, relieved, the pit in his stomach suddenly gone. “Yes. Heck, yes. Just like the rest of you.”

He wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, kissing him full on the mouth. Dean smiled against his lips, drawing him in closer.

“Let’s move this somewhere else?” Dean asked, in between kisses.

Cas nodded furiously. “Yes.”

Dean hoisted Cas up, who wrapped his legs around his waist. And suddenly, all sense of direction was lost. Somehow, Dean found himself on the bed, Cas snuggled under him. Dean nipped at Cas’ lips, which were full and just as soft as he remembered them. With Cas’ legs around him, he drew him closer.

Cas was fumbling with Dean’s shirt, but he barely noticed. He focused on Cas’ neck now, leaving tiny bite marks wherever he went, like he was marking his territory. _Mine_ , he thought. _Always mine_. He grabbed a little bit of skin between his teeth and tugged slightly.

“Dean!” Cas gasped.

“You like that, hmm?” Dean asked, a butterfly-like feeling filling him. He’d thought about what it would be like to have Cas with him, _touching_ him, running his hands over his body almost constantly the entire time he had been over in Iraq.

Cas giggled as he struggled with Dean’s shirt.

“What?”

And then Cas laughed louder. Dean rushed forward, kissing him hard. He pulled on Cas’ bottom lip. “Tell me,” he whispered. “Tell me why you’re laughing.”

Cas smiled shyly. His entire face was glowing, it was so attractive Dean just wanted to kiss the shit out of him, make him scream so hard while he fucked him, that his face would be ridiculously red at the end. And then that would make him want to start all over again.

“It’s nothing, Dean. Your shirt,” he said, chuckling at first, but then he started laughing, “I can’t get it off.” He tugged at it, pulling as hard as he could, but he was shaking with laughter.

Dean chuckled. “You are such a dork,” he said, pecking him on the cheek. “Here.” Dean got off him, Cas’ hands still lightly touching his torso. He unbuttoned his shirt as fast as he could, eliciting a slight whimper from Cas.

Dean paused. “You like that, huh?”

Cas nodded frantically. “Fast, Dean,” he said, his voice thick with want.

He just laughed, but didn’t unbutton any more buttons. “We’ll take this slow, Cas. Let me enjoy everything about it. I mean, I haven’t fucked you in three years or so. Let’s make this _special_ , Cas.”

Cas’ legs were still spread wide apart; Dean just wanted to dive down and attack him, but he didn’t. He wanted to make Cas want him, make him beg for it. Cas bucked his hips impatiently, moaning and scrunching his eyes shut as he watched Dean strip slowly out of the shirt he was wearing.

“Uh, not today, babe. Watch me. Open your eyes and _look_ at me.”

Cas opened his eyes slowly, whimpering as Dean leaned over, his face barely inches away. Cas’ gaze was so glassy, like he was being hypnotized or something and that only made Dean want to fuck him harder. His cock was already growing harder and harder the longer they drew it out.

He pulled off his shirt, revealing a muscle shirt underneath. Cas groaned in frustration.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Wow, Castiel. Someone’s got the hots for me. Can’t wait to see me naked, huh? You want me that bad, hmm? Can’t wait for me to fuck you long and hard, can you, Cas?” Cas moaned, arching his head back, exposing his neck again.

He didn’t even wait for an invitation. Dean dropped, attacking his neck with his teeth rather than his lips, back to where he had been a few minutes ago. “Mine,” he breathed, as Cas shuddered under him. “Mine, you got it? Only mine.”

“Yours,” Cas choked out. “Always yours.”

“Good.”

Dean grabbed Cas’ shirt with both hands, and pulled. The fabric ripped, buttons popping everywhere.

“Dean,” Cas breathed.

“Damn, you look… wow, Cas,” Dean said, pausing for the briefest second, but it was enough for Cas. He grabbed Dean’s wrists, flipped him on his back and had Dean pinned under him in the blink of an eye. He yanked Dean’s hands above his head.

Dean watched, amazed, practically speechless at what had happened.

“Today you are mine,” Cas said, voice dangerously low. “Took your sweet time with the stripping, didn’t you? Maybe I’ll take even longer letting you come.”

Dean’s breath caught. Cas talking dirty things to him as probably the best thing he’d ever have the pleasure of hearing. He just watched anxiously as Cas gracefully pulled off his shirt, and then yanked Dean’s muscle shirt off.

“Hmm,” Cas said, running his long fingers over the taut skin, painted with scars, stretched over strong muscle. “These just make you look hotter, Dean.”

He laughed. “So, I wasn’t hot before.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Of course you were. You always have been, Dean. The field of freckles of your face has always been what I’ve admired about your beauty.”

“But, you really need to take care of yourself.” Cas leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the long scar that ran across Dean’s torso. A painful memory flashed through Dean’s mind, but he pushed it away, trying to focus on Cas.

“Cas--” Dean started, but his voice trailed off into a moan as Cas slid a hand into the waistband of his jeans, his fingers soft and cold against his skin.

 But, he didn’t even wait as he undid his jeans and pulled them off. Dean’s cock was practically exploding to get out his boxers. And then suddenly, Cas’ hands were _on top_ of his dick, and Dean thrust his hips in the air.

All he could do was just watch painfully as Cas took his own sweet time pulling his jeans off. He was moving way faster than Dean had been, but Cas was such a fucking tease, with his whole coy expression, full lips and his lust-filled blue eyes.

Suddenly, Cas fingers were in his hair and the next second, they were skimming his body, light touches everywhere and then they were sliding his boxers down his legs. Dean heard the crunching sound of a condom wrapper, and he watched in frustrated anticipation as he watched Cas slip it on himself. Cas and him hadn’t practiced safe sex in forever. They were both free from STDs and stuff and so they’d never bothered with a _condom_. But he didn’t have time to think about it anymore because Cas was fisting his cock, sending sensations through Dean’s body.

“Cas, need you, please,” Dean’s breath hitched, as Cas slid another hand between his legs.

“Need me?”

He nodded frantically. He hadn’t fucked the guy in 3 years and Cas wanted to draw it out, make it long, hurt more.

Cas leaned forward, pressing his full weight on Dean’s body. He was still playing with Dean’s cock.  The press of Cas’ own against his thigh might have made Dean come on the spot, but he couldn’t. He wanted Cas, wanted him _inside_ him, before anything. He could hold on until then.  

“You need me? Well, I’m here, Dean,” he said.

“Need you _in_ me, Cas,” he gasped, as Cas’ movements got jerkier.

“You like that, hmm? You’ll like it even more when I fuck you harder, make you scream my name while I fuck you. Over. And. Over. Again,” Cas whispered, provoking a whimper from Dean.     

“Yes.”

Cas slid a finger into him, making him groan. It was all a mixture of _fast, fast, fast_ in his head and what Cas was doing was absolutely unfair.

“You’re so _gorgeous_ ,” Cas hissed, as he worked another finger in, moving faster, so skillfully as he pushed Dean closer and closer to the edge.

“Cas, I can’t, so close,” Dean panted, closing his eyes shut. Wow, they’d barely been in bed for five minutes and he was already so close to coming. And then suddenly, Cas removed his fingers. Dean felt the emptiness weigh down on him and his eyes shot open.

Dean noticed how the hickeys he’d given Cas were all lined randomly down his neck. It didn’t help that he could see them now because it only turned him on more.

“No. Not yet,” Cas whispered. “Not yet. Don’t you dare come without my permission.”

“Cas, please,” Dean said, his voice barely a whisper. He tensed again as Cas leaned forward, but relaxed into the kiss. It was wet, slick, but it was better than nothing.

Cas’ eyes were dark with want as he pulled away, and Dean was desperate, desperate for something more. Cas reached for Dean’s lip, sliding a soft finger across it. And then, Cas bit down on his own lip, like he was trying to control himself around Dean. But, the way their bodies were just so electric against each other, the tingly sensations, everything just said otherwise.

Cas was so hard against Dean’s thigh; it made Dean nervous with anticipation about what was going to happen.

“Dean,” Cas breathed. “So _beautiful_. I have missed having you to myself.”

“So then just fuck me already, Jesus.”

“Why would he want to sleep with you?” Cas asked, raising an eyebrow. Dean burst out laughing, coming out in ragged breaths, his body suddenly feeling heavy with fatigue.

Cas’ face cracked into a grin, and he slid down. And then suddenly, a thrust later, he was inside him. Dean gasped, as though the wind was knocked out of him. As soon as it had happened, feelings of want and _need_ coursed through him.

“I’ll make you scream,” Cas muttered, as he buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. “My name. You’ll be screaming my name the whole time. You want more?”

“Cas, Cas—I—Cas,” Dean wheezed. Cas’ strokes got more powerful with each one.

“You’ll take more for me, hmm? Take it all in for me?” Cas pressed. His words were doing things to Dean.

“Yes, all for you,” Dean said, barely registering anything he was saying into Cas’ ear. The desire to come was so intense, but he didn’t want to come without Cas’ approval.

“All for who?”

And then without warning, Cas pushed into him more forcefully than the last few strokes and Dean gasped, gulping in as much as air as he could. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until then, nor had he realized that his eyes were closed.

“For _you_ , Cas, it’s all for _you_ , Cas.”

Cas let out a noise in satisfaction. “Good. Come for me.”

And Dean let everything that had been holding him back, as the orgasm rippled through him, making his entire body tremble and shake. Not two seconds later, Cas came too, inside him, which nearly melted Dean’s mind. He hadn’t had that powerful of an orgasm since _fucking forever_.

Cas collapsed on top of him, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Shit.”

Cas laughed, panting as the after-effects of the orgasm made both their bodies tingle. “Ditto.”

Dean sat up on his elbows and drew Cas into a long, slow kiss. Maybe things were back to normal, maybe him and Cas were back to where they’d started, maybe things wouldn’t be as bad as they’d been in the past few years.

“I love you,” he mumbled, sleepily.

Cas leaned forward and kissed his forehead, his fingers woven skillfully into Dean’s hair. “I love you more, Dean.”

_________________________________

Dean hadn’t anticipated the nightmares. He’d heard a lot about them from other fellow soldiers who had it worse and they had gotten slightly out of hand while he had been on duty, but that still hadn’t stopped Dean from waking up at 2:34 AM, sweating and his heart racing like he’d just run a million miles, images of dead soldiers and bloodied corpses flooding his mind.

Cas sat up, blinking in the dark. “Dean?”

Dean reached out in the dark, somewhere he could find some sort of fucking _stability_ , and some place things wouldn’t end in explosions or shootings. He waved his hands frantically, looking for Cas, hoping and praying that he wasn’t the lifeless corpse that Dean had seen in his nightmare.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths,” Cas said, grabbing his wrists, pulling him close and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He kissed Dean’s cheek softly, repeatedly whispering _its okay_ and _I’m here with you_.

Dean trembled under Cas’ touch, but eased into it. Cas was here, Cas was alive and well, he wasn’t going to leave Dean.

“Cas, they’re dead.”

“Hey, it’s okay, there isn’t anything you can do.”

“But, it’s my fault, Cas,” he said, shakily, his voice thick with a weird mixture of sleep and fear.

“Shh.,” Cas shushed him, as he rubbed Dean’s cheek with his thumb. “It’s not your fault, Dean. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Dean nodded slowly. Cas rubbed his back, helped him sit up straighter. “Breathe in for me, Dean.” And he tried to take in a deep breath. He instantly felt a little better because Cas was here, Cas wouldn’t let him go through this by himself.

“Okay, now breathe out.” And Dean obeyed, letting out the air he’d been holding in.

“Again.”

And Cas guided him through his breathing, helping him relax, comforting him through his nightmare.

Dean pulled his legs closer to his body, easing into Cas’ arms as he wrapped them around his whole body, planting gentle kisses into Dean’s hairline.

“I’m sorry, Cas.”

Cas shushed him and Dean felt into a less disturbed sleep, in Cas’ arms.

____________________________

The smell of blueberry pancakes wafted through the air, rousing Dean from his deep slumber. He’d fortunately not dreamed any more horrifying deaths after Cas had lulled him to sleep. Dean pushed the covers off, rubbed his face and gently padded to the kitchen, the hard wood cold beneath his bare feet.

“Good morning, Dean.”

Dean widened his eyes at Cas. He was wearing a button down blue shirt, sleeves rolled up neatly to his elbow. A white apron covered his front and he was flipping pancakes on the little skillet in front of him. His hair was neatly combed, which Dean loved, but he loved it when it was even messier.

“Hey, Cas.” He plopped down on the tall chair that overlooked the kitchen counter. “That smells really good. I haven’t had your pancakes forever.”

Cas smiled, a slight flush forming in his cheeks. “Yes, I assumed that you hadn’t had them overseas so I decided to make them for you. Although, I was planning on making them for you when you got here, which was supposed to be next week. But, it is a good thing that I got them early.”

Dean chuckled.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Dean said, resting his chin on his hand, feeling a sudden swell of affection for the man standing in front of him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cas asked, flipping one of the pancakes, blue eyes still piercing Dean’s green ones.

“Because you’re abnormally fucking gorgeous.”

“Stop it, Dean,” Cas said, darting his eyes away. The blush in his cheeks deepened and Dean felt a little surge of happiness run through him. The fact that he could _Castiel Novak_ , the man that practically showed zero emotion, blush, was obviously a feat of achievement.

“Why?” Dean bounced off the chair. He rounded the corner and stood right behind Cas, pressing himself against Cas’ back. Cas breathed in sharply.

“Why, Cas?” Dean repeated, whispering the words in Cas’ ear, drawing each word out.

“Dean,” Cas said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Dean rested his hands on Cas’ waist.

“Didn’t answer my question.” Dean kissed the little bit of skin he could see behind Cas’ ear, which made him gasp slightly, tilting his head away from him. Dean chuckled softly.

“Dean, I’m cooking.”

“So?”

Cas sighed and turned around. “I hate it when you get very irresistible.”

Dean laughed again, pulling him closer, if that was even possible. “Not my fault, though.”

Cas shook his head, leaned forward and kissed him. “No, it’s not.”

And the room around them vanished, as did the floor beneath their feet. Dean had always thought kissing Cas had been the most magical thing he’d ever experienced. Three years later, it hadn’t changed.

Dean pulled away. “I love you. And I know I’ve said that you like a few times, but I don’t think there’s a number big enough to encompass the number of I love yous I want you to hear.”

Cas blushed, but he leaned over and kissed Dean’s forehead anyway. “I love you too, Dean. And I am saying this in the hopes that you will believe it: I will never stop loving you.”

Dean grinned, his heart filling up with more fondness for Cas. “Me either, Cas. Me either.”

___________________________________

It wasn’t until a few hours after Cas had left that Dean found the crutches. They were awkwardly stashed behind all of Cas’ clothes in his walk-in closet. Dean pulled them out of the back and looked at them turning them over in his hands. And then he tried them. They were a little short for him. Obviously, they weren’t his. And they seemed like the perfect height for…

So, Dean called Sam. Sam didn’t pick up and Dean threw his phone angrily on the couch, before plopping down right next to it so that he could watch some TV. As soon as he’d turned the TV on, the phone rang.

“Sammy?” He clutched the phone uncomfortably hard to his ear, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t heard Sam’s voice in forever and he wanted to cherish it.

“Dean? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, listen, you free? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, yeah. What’s up?”

Dean heard some noise from the other end, people laughing, a little bit of shouting. And suddenly, he felt something different. Something he’d felt the very first day he’d walked into the dirty tents in a different country. The first time he’d tried to make himself feel at home in a country halfway across from the only home he’d known, thousands of miles away from the only people he loved. Loneliness.

Maybe he had to give it some time. Maybe it was only because he’d been home for a grand total of 15 hours.

“Um, so,” Dean cleared his throat, brushing away the awkwardness. “I was looking for one of Cas’ shirts to wear, and I found something in Cas’ closet, Sammy.”

“What?”

“It was really weird.”

“He’s a surgeon, Dean. He probably has weird things all over the place.”

“No, it didn’t seem like that. Besides, Cas is a cardiac surgeon. Why would he have crutches just lying in his closet?”

Dean could practically imagine the way Sam sat up straight whenever Dean broached a serious topic with him. “Crutches?”

“Yeah. I don’t know. Did something happen? While I was away?”

An awkward silence hung over the phone line. Dean’s heart tensed.

“Sam. What happened, tell me.”

“Look, Dean,” Sam sighed. “You should really talk to Cas about it.”

And he was right, but that still didn’t stop Dean from being pissed at Cas.

_______________________________

Dean awoke to the sound of the door opening and he jumped to his feet, images from his last nightmare still flashing everywhere. He blinked a few times, as his eyes adjusted to the light.

“Dean?”

He breathed a sigh of relief when he recognized the tan trenchcoat in front of him. “Cas.”

“Hey, what happened?” Cas set his bag down and walked over. Dean sat down on the couch and turned on the TV.

“Dean?”

Dean turned and looked at him, noticing the worry lines that were clearly etched into Cas’ face. He’d probably had a long day. “Come here.”

Cas walked over, swinging his long legs onto the couch, as he settled into Dean’s lap. Leaning over, he kissed the other man, long and deep.

“Did you get sleep, Dean?” Cas asked, his arms still wrapped around Dean’s neck, while Dean’s hands rested on Cas’ hip.

Dean nodded, eyes still half closed. But, the image of the crutches darted through his mind. “We need to talk.”

“What’s wrong?” Cas’ forehead creased with worry and more lines formed on his face.

He sighed. “I found crutches, Cas. In your closet. What’s that about?”

Cas tensed under Dean’s touch. But, he stayed silent.

“Are they yours?” Dean urged.

“I was going to get to that.”

“Well? Tell me.”

“A few months ago, I was driving to work in the middle of the night because the other surgeons were unreachable. And a drunk driver hit my car, so--”

Dean suddenly noticed a light scar running down the side of Cas’ arm and he immediately reached over and touched it. “Is this from there?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Cas nodded. “But, I’m fine, Dean. My leg was broken and so I couldn’t go into work for a few weeks, but it wasn’t too bad.”

“Then who took care of you? And what happened to the guy? Is he behind bars? He better be because if he isn’t, then I swear that son of a--”

“ _Dean._ It’s okay.” Cas cupped Dean’s face and kissed his forehead. “I’m fine. I needed a blood transfusion but that was about it.”

“Cas, I can’t,” Dean sighed heavily, heart aching at the thought that he hadn’t known about this. But, a small voice sounded from the back of his head: _Well, if you’d just written, you would’ve known._

“I know, Dean. I wasn’t going to hide it from you forever, I just wanted to wait a little. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out like that.”

“Jesus, Cas. Take care of yourself, will you? Always running away to help others but never yourself.” Dean turned his face and kissed Cas’ palm.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

And they sat there for a little while, just their foreheads touching, each silently thankful for the other’s presence.

Dean would keep Castiel safe, no matter what. _No matter what._

______________________________

The weeks turned slowly into months and the happiness carried along with it. Sometimes, Dean would wake up to pancakes and other times, Cas would wake up to scrambled eggs. Everything was going so well; even Dean’s nightmares were slowly going away. They obviously wouldn’t be gone completely, but at least Dean could count on Cas to make them better.

But, of course the pain wouldn’t stay away forever.

Dean was sitting on the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, watching _Dr. Sexy M.D_ reruns. Steve Bacic was one of a kind actor. If Dean didn’t already have Cas to crush on, he would’ve totally gone for that.

A knock sounded on the door, and Dean swung his legs in front of him, and padded off to the door.

Cas was bent over in front of the door, breathing heavily.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean said, his words rushed, as he wrapped his arms around Cas and held him upright. “Hey, Cas, you okay?” He touched his forehead, and almost dropped him. “You’re burning, what happened?”

He had been perfectly fine when he’d left in the morning.

When Cas spoke, his voice was shaky. “I don’t know, Dean.”

Dean bent over, and picked him up, holding him as close as he could. “We’ll get you all better, okay? I’m going to go make you some chicken soup and it’s going to be perfectly alright.” He set him down on the couch, drawing the blankets up to his shoulder. “Okay, Cas?” He bent down and kissed his forehead, heading off to the kitchen.

His mind was reeling. He could barely stand it when Cas got a tiny paper cut and yet, here he was, burning up with some fever. But, he shook his head and took a few deep breaths. _He’s going to be okay, nothing is going to happen to him._

But, just in case, he called Jess.

He was spoon-feeding Cas the soup when Sam and Jess walked into the living room.

“Hey,” Dean said, not looking away from Cas’ face, which was about a shade paler than it had been an hour ago. Jess took the bowl of soup from him, as he stepped away and watched.

Sam and Jess, to his surprise, weren’t saying anything. Jess was just stroking Cas’ forehead as she fed him the soup and Sam was standing there, wearing his hurt-puppy look.

“We should get him to a hospital, Dean,” Sam said, after Cas had swallowed the last of his soup.

“No,” Cas said, faintly.

Dean shook his head. “We need to. Your temperature is 103. And that was just today.”

Cas fell silent at Dean’s stare, closing his eyes, a wave of pain flashing on his face. The crinkles near his eyes deepened and suddenly his features looked darker than usual. Dean’s heart was racing like crazy, whirling with the dread that he was facing. It was just a high fever, nothing would happen.

____________________________

Cas had been in the hospital for about a day and his fever showed no signs of calming down. Dean wouldn’t leave his side, and instead, sent Sam to do all the errands. He smoothed Cas’ hair and smiled at him, trying not to let the pain show on his face.

What had he expected? That he would come home from the war and everything would be sunshine and daisies forever?

“It’s going to be okay, Cas.”

The worry lines on Cas’ face deepened, and he struggled to take a deep breath.

‘Hey, whoa, Cas,” Dean said. “It’s okay, take it slow.”

“No, Dean,” Cas said, forcefully. Dean could practically feel the pain that Cas was in.

“What do you mean, no? You can’t be talking right now.”

“No, Dean. I lied to you.”

Dean froze, but he quickly pulled himself together. It was obviously the medicine talking. “Cas, I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me?”

“But, Dean---”

“ _Cas,_ breathe for me. Please?”

Cas fell silent at Dean’s plea and took a slow, deep breath, his body falling into the normal rhythm again. Dean exhaled, without realizing that he’d even been holding it.

“Okay, you hold on, I’m going to run to the bathroom, okay?”

Cas nodded slowly, as Dean leaned over and pressed his lips to his burning forehead. “You’re going to be alright, Cas. I’ll make sure of it.”

He caught a glimpse of Cas’ pained expression, but he forced his biggest smile and left the room, crashing right into the nurse outside. The bottles on her little tray wobbled, and Dean caught the tray, as they both gasped in surprise.

“I’m so freaking sorry.”

“It’s okay,” the nurse said, smiling weakly. “I have a lot more of these bottle in storage, it’s okay.” She was dressed in the normal blue that all the nurses were, but she had something about her that calmed him down slightly. With her slight dimples, bright eyes and heart-shaped face, she was what most men would find attractive.

Dean nodded, before he realized where he had been heading off. “Uh, do you know where the bathroom is? I haven’t even left the room since I got here.”

“Yeah, sure. Just take a left at the end of the hallway and they should be on your right. You could also use the bathroom in your own room.”

“Thanks,” Dean said smiling quickly. “What did you say your name was?”

“Tessa.”

“I’m--”

“Dean, yeah, I know.” When he raised his eyebrows in confusion, she smiled. “Doctors were talking about Castiel’s case. And the two of you, I don’t know if you’ve noticed anyone else but him in the past few days, but I’m the registered nurse. I’ve been in and out. I don’t blame you for not noticing, you’ve been going through a lot the past few days.”

He nodded, scrunching his eyes shut, willing the image of Cas to go away.

“Anyway, let me know if you need anything. I’m usually on this floor,” Tessa smiled, her teeth perfect in her mouth.

“Thanks.” He smiled weakly, stepping aside to let her into the room, before he turned on his heel and left to the bathroom.

As he rounded the corner, he crashed into someone else as a flash of white blurred his vision momentarily. He groaned in exasperation.

“I’m really sorry, it’s just been a really, really long day,” he said, as he rubbed his head. Glancing up, he noticed that he was facing a doctor, dressed in the achingly familiar white lab coat, glasses sticking out of the pocket of her coat.

“It’s okay. You’re Dean Winchester, aren’t you?”

Dean nodded slowly. _How on Earth did everyone know his name?_

“I’m Castiel’s doctor, Dr. Harvelle. But, you can call me Ellen.” She smiled at him, the crinkles by her eyes deepening. Dean wanted to smile back, but his mind was exploding with questions.

“What’s wrong with him?”

Ellen sighed softly. “To be frankly honest, a lot. We need to sit down so that we can have this conversation.”

“Will he be okay?” Dean asked urgently. He wouldn’t even know what to do if… No, nothing was going to happen.

But, Ellen just smiled weakly as she led the way to a place for quiet discussion.

“No, you have to tell me,” he said, grabbing her shoulder and turning her around. “Please, he means everything to me.” His voice broke slightly at the end and Dean could feel the tears prickle his eyes.

The doctor took a deep breath before she answered him. “Castiel has HIV,” she said firmly, brown eyes boring into Dean’s green ones.

“You’re lying,” Dean said shakily. “You’re _lying._ ”

Ellen didn’t try to smile sympathetically either. She reached over and touched his forearm but he shook her off. “He doesn’t have HIV. I’m clean, he’s clean and I’m sure--” he broke off.

It had been _three_ years since he’d been gone. Who was there to say that Cas hadn’t slept with someone else?

 _No,_ a little voice in the back of his head nagged. _Cas loved you, he would never cheat on you._

“HIV isn’t only from sexual intercourse, Dean,” Ellen said, breaking into Dean’s thoughts.

“What?”

“Your insurance records show that Cas had been admitted to another hospital about eight months ago for a blood transfusion.”

Right, the _accident._ But that still didn’t make any sense. “So?”

“I’m thinking it was a bad blood transfusion. HIV can spread through fluid to fluid contact and that was plenty enough to have Castiel exposed to such a virus.”

“How the fuck is it okay for Cas get affected by some stupid virus if it’s the hospital’s dumb fault for not taking care of everything?” Dean was practically fuming. “You can do something, can’t you Doc?”

Ellen smiled that sympathetic smile again. “I’ll do what I can. But, to be completely honest, don’t get your hopes up. HIV is a nasty thing.”

_________________________

The days had turned into a few weeks, each day almost unbearably worse than the last. And Dean knew that Cas was in more physical pain than he was, but he just couldn’t shake the thought of _losing_ Cas. Though Ellen had given her word that she would “do her best”, it wasn’t exactly enough to stop the virus from exposing Cas to all the sicknesses that could possibly be out there.

Especially after he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t let anything happen to Cas.

“Dean?” Cas’ voice jerked him out of his thoughts. He was spacing out a lot more since he’d talked to Ellen. He looked at Cas, whose face was a lot more pale than it had been about a week and a half ago.

“What’s wrong?”

Dean laughed sarcastically at the statement. “Nothing, Cas. Absolutely nothing, Cas.”

Cas furrowed his brow. “Then why do you look so out of it?”

“Cas,” Dean said, the exasperation in his voice now more than evident. “Look at you. You’re in a hospital bed, hooked up to all these _machines_ , and you’re not okay. How on Earth am I supposed to be okay if you’re not?”

Cas reached over and grabbed his hands, squeezing it with the little strength he had. “I’m fighting for you, Dean.”

“You’re dying, Cas.”

The silence confirmed Dean’s beliefs; there was no real way to save Cas. He was going to be gone.

_________________________________

It wasn’t until months later that Dean found himself able enough to go to Castiel’s grave. It was the brand-new, shiny headstone at Steven’s cemetery. He felt a heavy weight settle on his chest as he stepped inside. A suddenly eerie feeling coursed through him, and he felt the tears about to flow.

When the doctor had declared Cas dead, Dean had felt everything inside him break, all the fault lines that Castiel had so carefully put together were falling apart. It was sort of like, a slow destruction. He’d been so cowardly that he hadn’t even been able to convince him to go to the funeral.

 _Cas would be ashamed_ , a small voice spoke. He forced his eyes shut, his chest recoiling in hatred for himself.

The nightmares had come back, but this time they were worse. They were more consistent, and he knew that ought to get help but he couldn’t. Sam and Jess had tried to talk to him, but to no avail. He wasn’t the same person he used to be. Not without Cas.

He stood over the headstone, which now had fresh grass growing over it. It only made him sick. How could something live where someone was dead?

Dean took a deep breath. “I know I should’ve been here months ago. Like, for your funeral. Where I should’ve written you those stupid speeches, saying something nice about you and stuff.” He chuckled through his tears.

“Thing is, Cas, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I mean, how--” he shuddered, as the sobs racked his body. He let the weight drag him to his knees, and he dropped the stupid flowers he’d brought with him. They were white lilies. He had no idea what sort of flowers Cas even liked now that he thought about it and he hated himself even more.

“How could I, Cas? Oh, God.” He rubbed his face. “I miss your stupid face. Can you just come back now, so I can kiss you and we can be that couple again? Please?”

The silence that followed was heartbreaking. He suddenly realized it, something that he’d assumed but never realized. He would never have Cas’ blueberry pancakes, he would never have his beautiful body to himself, he’d never be able to kiss him. He wouldn’t ever hear Cas talk to him, he’d never see Cas saving someone else’s life. Ever.

And so he cried. Cried more than he ever had, in his entire life. He cried more than when he’d lost his mom, his dad, all the people he’d lost on the battlefield.

Because how could anything, alive or dead, ever, _ever_ replace something that Dean would’ve killed for?

After a long time, Dean picked up the flowers. “I got you some flowers or something. Well, they’re roses. I wish you could smell them, Cas. And then you would bring out that really pathetic vase, fill it with water and put it in. The house would smell like lilies for a while. God, I don’t even know what flowers you like. I am so stupid.

“Come back and tell me, Cas. Come back and tell me about all your favorite things. I’m sorry I left for 3 years. I’m sorry. Please, just come back and make everything okay. I know I should’ve kept in touch and I know I should’ve made more of an effort to keep everything going, but if I knew I was going to lose you… Hell, Cas, I wouldn’t have even gone to Iraq.”

The image of Cas bleeding flashed through his mind and he shivered. “I love you, Castiel. Come back and I’ll make you feel so loved. Come back and I’ll love you more than anyone else will love you. Come back, so I can marry you and we can adopt kids and we can be a happy little family. Please, don’t be gone. Please.”

The wind breezed through the cemetery, while Dean sat on the floor, pining for his love, realizing how much he’d meant to him. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, you guys. Two MCD fics in a row?? I really do suck, but I have no other way to channel all my angst, ugh. <3 Partly inspired by Twist and Shout. It isn't T&S exactly, but it has the same basic story line but with a few elements changed <3


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